


A Wishing Tree, I Asked For You

by HarperJean



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Hanson (Band), Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Abortion, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Alternate Universe- The Village, Crossover, F/M, M/M, Pregnancy, Sexual Abuse, Suicide, Teen Pregnancy, Underage Sex, but I'm writing it anyway, crack ship, no one asked for this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarperJean/pseuds/HarperJean
Summary: The night after Moritz's funeral, Ilse is making her way through the woods back to the outside world when she sees a van barreling down the road to the village.  The van crashes into the trees, and suddenly, she is forced to help three unknowing travelers - Isaac, Taylor, and Zac.  The arrival of these unexpected visitors sends the village into a whirlwind.  Secrets are revealed, questions are asked, and lives are changed forever.





	1. All Hollow Through The Willows

I was thirteen when I was kicked out of my house, and banished from our village. 

I left that day, the rain soaking my grey dress and long hair. Nothing stopped me at the fence. Nothing chased me back to my house. Nothing blinded me with fear, white hot and all consuming. It was just me, the dark sky, and the rain. 

I was found at the edge of the woods, cold and wet, by a man who was driving through Pennsylvania. It was the first time in my life I had seen a car, or a highway for that matter. After I calmed down from the panic induced from hurtling down a road at fifty miles per hour, he took me to a hotel room and kissed my tear stained cheeks. His beard scratched when he shoved himself inside of me. I didn’t cry. I was used to this. 

I was taken in by the two men that ran the hotel I stayed in on that very first night, two painters who made a living by letting people stay in the rooms above their heads. I cleaned for them, and lay naked in front of their canvases. All they wanted to do was dress me up and paint me. These two men became my brothers, my fathers, my lovers. When I told them of the horror of the village, they assumed I had been abused and was running away from terrible parents. 

Which I was. It just...wasn’t as simple as that. 

I learned about the world around me. About how light switches click on and illuminate a room, about how computers can send letters at the speed of light, and about how girls can wear trousers and speak out of turn. I still don’t think I know everything, but there was a lot to catch up on. John and Gus doted on me, as though I was a small kitten discovering the world for the first time with open eyes. I didn't mind it at all. I was treated like a completely different kind of animal at home. 

A year after leaving home, I made my way back, to look at my friends from behind the branches. I longed to see Melchi, my best friend, again. I spent the next few months observing and figuring out the adults’ routine. How they scanned the woods and how they scared their children into staying close by. How they would reprimand Thea for wandering too far from the meadow we were allowed to play in. They were always watching. Always. 

I knew the monsters only came out at night. I had spent my whole life fearful of the hooded beings that haunted the woods. I came too close to them too many times. We were raised to fear them. I didn’t want to risk it. 

Melchior is the smartest person I know, so it didn’t take long for him to figure out the messages I was leaving for him at the fences. Finally, in the middle of the afternoon, when no parent or teacher was on the prowl, we found each other in the woods. I told him there was a different world out there. I tried my best to explain the wonders of it, but it was difficult. It had to be seen to be believed. 

I came home for the funeral and was not chased away. I emerged from the woods, wearing a bright green dress, my hair hanging around my shoulders and falling down my back, tears streaming freely from my eyes. I brought flowers, and stared daggers into Moritz's parents. I didn’t speak a word to any adult, but I slid a hand around Martha’s waist once the body was in the grave and showed her the gun. I found Melchi outside the schoolhouse, and he explained that the teachers were inside discussing him. 

“They couldn’t wait a day? Moritz just _died_.”

“Apparently not.” 

I squeezed his hand and disappeared into the woods. 

The sun was setting. I needed to get back before the monsters came out. 

I know the woods surrounding the village better than any song, any book, any painting. There is a paved road that runs adjacent to the village (no roads actually lead to our houses) that I have never seen an automobile on. I don’t know how one even gets to that road, I just know it’s there. That night I saw a van barreling down that very road. I was right in the line of its headlights, which caused the driver to swerve, and then attempt to correct itself, sending the van into a clump of trees. The headlights extinguished. I peered into the windows of the van and didn’t see much. I had two options. 

Either I go run to the hotel and find John and Gus, or I run back home to the village, and ring the alarm bell. One would take about an hour. One would take ten minutes. I took a deep breath, and ran towards home.


	2. Nightly, Too Unreal

“Maybe it’s time. Maybe...maybe we didn’t think in the long term enough. Maybe it’s time to end all of this.” 

“Are you insane? How do you think releasing all of our children into the world is any less cruel than keeping them here. Have you forgotten what's out there?” 

“A boy just died. A boy just killed himself.” 

“Moritz was doomed from the beginning; you remember how he was as a little boy. Always so sensitive. It’s no wonder, really.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Fanny!”

“I’m just saying that both your girls aren’t exactly made of the strongest stuff.” 

“But they’re alive, aren’t they?” 

Taylor was awake but didn’t dare open his eyes. He listened to the quiet conversation going on somewhere to his right, surely in some dark corner of the room he was laying in. He could feel ropes around his entire body, binding him to the bed, and a piece of fabric stuffed in his mouth. The two women speaking didn’t necessarily sound like people who would keep him hostage...but he had been surprised before. 

He breathed slowly, trying his best not to descend into a panic. He wondered if his brothers were in the room with him, or if they were even alive. In...out...in...out...he kept breathing and thought back to the last thing he could remember. 

The girl.

He remembered a girl in a green dress. And trees. And then nothing. Nothing before and definitely nothing after. 

_Where am I?!_ He thought to himself, trying not to allow his body to give away the fact that he was awake. Were these women going to kill him? They had him tied up and gagged. He heard a whimper somewhere to his left. It was his brother. There was no mistaking it. 

“Fanny,” one of the women said sharply, surely pointing to the youngest boy. “He’s awake.” 

Taylor heard them walk over to where his younger brother must have been. The bed creaked and Zac screamed around his gag. 

“Sssshhhh we’re taking it out, this was just for your safety,” The woman named Fanny said, adopting a soothing tone to her voice. 

“WHERE AM I, WHAT HAPPENED?” Zac bellowed, his tongue finally released from the restriction. 

“Please lower your voice, and we’ll tell you everything. As soon as your brothers wake up.” 

Taylor peeked out from behind his eyelid. _Maybe they aren’t going to kill us,_ he thought. He finally opened his eyes all the way, hoping they would untie him as well. He looked over and saw Isaac stirring. 

“Well, it looks like your little outburst woke them up anyway. Fanny, untie that one,” she motioned to Taylor. Fanny seemed to be the gentler of the two. She smiled sweetly down at Taylor as she carefully loosened the ropes around his body. They were dressed in full skirts with petticoats, and their long hair was piled on top of their heads. He caught Zac’s eye. His younger brother looked absolutely terrified. 

“Where are we?” Taylor heard Isaac ask sternly from the furthest bed. Isaac was only twenty, but he lowered his voice and attempted to sound as stern as possible. If the situation had been any less dire, Taylor would have laughed. 

“The three of you were in a horrible accident not far from us. We found you in the woods.” 

This information didn’t assuage Taylor’s fear at all. Before he had opened his eyes, one of the women (Fanny? He already couldn’t remember…) had said that a boy had just died. That had to mean that this place was unsafe. He looked down at himself and realized he was wearing someone else’s nightshirt. He couldn’t figure out exactly how he knew that, but he did. Everything was fuzzy. 

“Did I...did we hit our heads or something?” Taylor asked, barely above a whisper. He was still groggy and his head was pounding. 

“It’s entire possible,” Fanny said, her warm brown eyes gazing over at him. He decided he liked her. The other one in the room, he wasn’t so sure of. “Tell me what you know. Who you are. Maybe we can figure out where you came from.” 

Taylor took a deep breath and looked over at his brothers, who both had deeply concerned looks on their faces. 

“Um...okay…” he began. “I’m Taylor Hanson. I’m 18 years old. I have six siblings...I’m the second oldest. I...we were travelling. And…” he faltered. It was as though he was describing a dream he couldn’t quite remember. He knew the details, but he couldn’t reach far back enough to grasp them. _What is wrong with me?_ He looked over at his brothers for help, but they looked just as bewildered. 

“I remember a girl,” Isaac said suddenly. _So I didn’t imagine that_ , Taylor thought to himself. There had been a girl. “A girl in a green dress.” 

The two women looked at each other knowingly, before Fanny said “That would be Ilse. She found the three of you and made sure you were delivered safely to the village.” 

“I’m sorry I...I can’t really remember anything else. I know that we were travelling. We were going somewhere, I just don’t really know where. I’m sorry,” Taylor sputtered out the apology, feeling sillier with every word he spoke. He felt tears of frustration spring to his eyes. 

“That’s alright,” Fanny cooed, coming over to Taylor’s bed and stroking his back softly. “Don’t worry. The three of you will stay here with us until you remember and we can deliver you back to safety. I’m Frau Gabor,” She said, holding out her hand. Taylor just looked at it. Frau? He had never heard anyone introduce themselves like that before.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Zac asked boldly, gesturing towards the other woman’s skirt and bustle. 

“Dressed like what, young man?” 

“Like...like that.”

“That's Frau Bergmann,” Fanny interrupted the side conversation and stood up to rejoin her companion. “We both have children around your age. You’ll meet them soon.” 

“We can take them now,” Frau Bergmann said with a smirk. Taylor still wasn’t sure he liked her. He looked at his brothers to try to gauge their reactions. 

“Um…” Taylor said cautiously, “What happened to our clothes?” He looked down at the nightshirt he was wearing. 

“Your clothes were filthy after the accident, so we put you in my son’s nightshirts,” Fanny explained casually, as though that were something she did with all her guests. “Which reminds me, let’s get you some proper clothes before parading you around the village. I’ll just run home and get some of Melchior’s things. They should fit you,” She looked over at Taylor, who was scrawnier than his brothers. “Oh…” 

“You could ask Frau Stiefl, I’m sure she would let you have Moritz’s things for that one,” she pointed at Taylor. “He was always a wisp of a boy.” 

Sadness clouded Fanny’s eyes for a moment. 

“Yes...he was…”


	3. Stories Will Be Told

_Look at me. Just look over here._

Wendla spent the day of the funeral with tears in her eyes. She threw a flower into Moritz’s grave and felt the tears begin to fall, but she couldn’t bring herself to look down at the coffin. The only person she could look at was Melchior. He was broken. She could see it in his face. 

_Just look at me, and it will be better. I’ll smile at you, and it will be better._

She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to rest his head on her chest like a mother calming a crying baby. The boy that walked around the village as though he had the answers to the universe, now couldn’t even lift his head to meet her eye. 

A few weeks ago, Wendla had found Melchior in his parent’s barn. There was thunder and lighting in the distance, and the air was charged with the energy of impending rain. She had found his journal in the woods, and she was embarrassed to say she read it, but even more embarrassed to say that she didn’t understand most of it. He had been crying in the hayloft. Upset, and emotional, but not in the same way as he was now. That had been anger. This was just defeat. 

She had climbed the ladder cautiously up to the hayloft, following the sounds of his gasps and wails. She wondered how long he had been up there crying. She knew it was because of her. What she had asked him to do…

“So here you are.” 

“Go away...please.” Melchior wiped his tears away quickly, clearly frustrated that Wendla had found him. 

“There’s a storm coming, you know. You can’t sit sulking in some hayloft.” 

“OUT.” 

“Everyone’s at church. Rehearsing for our Michaelmas Chorale. I slipped out.” 

“Yes. Well…” 

“Your friend Moritz Stiefel is absent. Someone said he’s been missing all day.” 

“I expect he’s had his fill of Michaelmas.” 

“Perhaps.” Wendla glanced down from the loft, wondering if maybe she should just go. He wasn’t even looking at her. “You know...I have your journal.” She saw him twitch. 

“You do?” 

“You left it. The other day. I confess I tried reading part of it…” 

“Just leave it. Please.” 

Wendla cautiously walked over to him, setting the journal down right beside him. She sat down on the dusty ground, for once not caring that the dirty floorboards would certainly muss up her blue dress. 

“Melchior…” she reached out her hand and gently placed it on his shoulder, beckoning him to turn around and look her in the eye. He flinched away from her touch. “I’m sorry about what happened. Truly, I am. I understand why you’d be angry with me, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“Don’t.” 

“But how can I not?”

“Please.” Melchior finally pivoted himself so he was facing Wendla. His eyes were wide and searching. His face was pale. “Please don’t.” Wendla tried once again to touch him. She reached out her hand, her fingers shaking slightly, and placed it on his cheek. He swatted it away. “We were confused, we were...we were both just…” 

“But it was my fault.” 

“Don’t!!! Please...no, it was all me. Something in me started when I hit you.” 

“Something in me too.” 

“But I hurt you…” 

“Yes, but still…” 

“No more! My God, no more. Just...please.” He scooted away from her, his head hung in shame. “You should go.” 

The command hung in the air. Wendla looked over at the boy cowering from her touch. She knew her request the day before had shaken him to his very core. She had come to him, smiling and sweet, with a wooden switch in her hand. She held it out and implored him to beat her with it. She just wanted to feel something. 

_Anything._

He playfully slapped her a couple times, and she goaded him to hit harder, to be stronger. To make her really feel it. She teased him for being too weak. “Martha Bessel is beaten almost every night, the next day you can see the welts!” Finally he snapped, and now the backs of her legs were mottled and bruised. He tackled her to the forest floor and reared a fist when a monster appeared in the distance, sending him running. Saving her from the blow. 

And yet, she had gotten what she wanted. She felt something. Finally. 

She crawled towards him timidly, inching closer as she spoke. “Won’t you come out to the meadow now, Melchior? We can run through the rain? Get soaked to the skin and not even care.” 

He looked up at her through his sweaty curls, his eyes brimming with fresh tears. “Forgive me.” 

“It was me.” She took his face in her hands. “All me.” 

He leaned in to kiss her, and she twitched nervously. She brought his head down to her chest suddenly, cradling it so that his ear was right next to her heart. She breathed in the scent of his hair. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, Wendla.” He raised his head, once again trying to kiss her. 

“Oh, Melchi. I don’t know…” 

Wendla had never kissed a boy. In fact, she had never looked at a boy as more than a playmate, until Melchi. 

“No matter where I am, I hear it beating.” 

Wendla took a shuddering breath. She was so sure of herself moments ago, and now, with Melchior’s big brown eyes looking straight into her own, she couldn’t seem to form any coherent thoughts. “And I hear yours,” was all she could say. He leaned in and kissed her deeply, probing his tongue into her mouth aggressively. She struggled free from his grasp, scared of what might come next. Scared of the feelings that were stirring deep in the pit of her stomach. “Wait, no…” 

“Wendla…”

“Wait...stop, I can’t. We’re not supposed to --” 

“What?! Not supposed to what? Love? I don’t know, is there such a thing?” Melchi held her by the shoulders, all the tears gone from his eyes. “I hear your heart. I feel you breathing. Everywhere. In the rain...in the hay. Please. Please Wendla.” 

He kissed her again, this even harder. 

“Melchi, no, it’s just --

“What? Sinful?” 

“No, I don’t know…” 

“Then why? Because it’s good? Because it makes us feel something?” 

Wendla suddenly reached out and grabbed Melchi, drawing him to her, kissing him deeply. This was a different kind of feeling than that of the switch on her thighs. This was good. He guided her down to the ground, untying the laces at the top of her dress. Their breathing quickened, both of them nervous and excited and honestly a little frightened. 

When she felt him inside of her she yelped. She could hear him grunting with every thrust, and she whined quietly, wondering if maybe she should ask him to stop, alright, we’ve done enough. But he wasn’t relenting. She closed her eyes tightly, and waited for it to be over. 

“Wendla, who’s with your mother?” 

Wendla looked up blearily, seeing Anna sitting next to her at the edge of the meadow. She had lost track of how many times she relived that evening in the hayloft. Sometimes she convinced herself it had all been a dream. She looked across the path and saw her mother leading three boys towards Anna’s house. They seemed around her age, maybe a bit older. They were dressed like her classmates. 

“I don’t know….” 

“I’ve never seen them before.” 

“Me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some dialogue from the script of Spring Awakening (the musical). For all my Hanson fan readers, please let me know if you have any questions about the plot or characters. Here's a very brief overview of what is happening in the hayloft scene:
> 
> Wendla is a 14 year old girl who has been incredibly sheltered. She doesn't know what sex is or what it can result in. She and Melchior have known each other their whole lives, but she just recently went through puberty and started realizing that he's a cute boy. Melchior is a lot less sheltered than Wendla. He knows what sex is and knows exactly what he's doing with Wendla in the hayloft. 
> 
> In a previous scene, Wendla, who realizes how sheltered she has been, asks Melchior to beat her with a wooden switch. She just wants to feel something, because she has seen her other friends feel sadness and pain, emotions that she has never experienced. He begrudgingly starts to hit her, but it's not hard enough. Finally, he starts wailing on her legs, and almost attacks her, sending him running with shame.


	4. Everything's Fine

Isaac heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” 

Melchior poked his head into the Gabor’s extra room. 

“Mama wanted to know if you wanted any tea?” 

“Oh, um...sure. Thank you, Melchior.” 

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back with it.” 

Isaac smiled weakly at the boy that he now shared a house with. Melchior smiled back, his brown eyes twinkling. There was something about him that reminded Isaac of Zac, especially the more he talked to him. There hadn’t been enough room for all three boys in any of the houses in the village, so Isaac volunteered to be put up at the Gabors. Taylor and Zac were over at Muellers, with their daughter Anna. Isaac, although he would prefer to be with his brothers, didn’t mind the arrangement. He got along shockingly well with the family he had been placed with. He was beginning to enjoy the nightly discussions he had with the Melchior, over tea that Frau Gabor made. 

“Here you go,” Melchior said, returning with two cups of steaming tea. He set them down on the small table by the window. 

“Thanks.” 

“So...how are you today?” 

Isaac was still slightly put off by how polite everyone in the village was. It was almost creepy, in a way. But he couldn’t quite figure out why...he couldn’t put his finger on why it bothered him. 

“I’m doing okay. Um...I guess I’m just frustrated.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Why?” 

“Well I still can’t remember much of anything. I remember waking up here in the village, and meeting your mother. And I know that my name is Isaac and I know that my brothers are Taylor and Zac...and I know I have more siblings.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah, I have six all together. I’m the oldest.” 

“Six?! No one here has that many brothers and sisters.” 

“I’ve noticed.” 

“But other than your family…” 

“There’s nothing. I have no idea where we were before this. I...I don’t even remember the accident we were in.” 

Melchior sipped his tea thoughtfully. “That’s so strange.” 

“I know! I do...I remember a girl. In the woods. Taylor does too.” 

“What did she look like?” 

“She had long hair and...she was wearing a green dress.” 

“Oh, you mean Ilse.” 

“Yes! That was the name. That’s what your mother said, too. Who is she?” Isaac asked, curious as to why they all said her name with such reverence. 

“Ilse’s one of my best friends,” Melchior replied earnestly, although Isaac couldn’t imagine any of the children _not_ being best friends...there weren’t many of them in the village. “She and I grew up together, and we’ve always been very close. It was always she and I...and Moritz…” His voice faltered. Isaac could clearly see the pain on his face. “The three of us, we were inseparable. We would play pirates.” Melchior stopped, suddenly overcome with nostalgia. 

“And?” 

“She was banished from our village three years ago. Our parents kept finding her trying to run away, so finally they took her through the woods and left her there. Of course, she found her way back eventually. We would meet each other in the woods sometimes. And...she came to the funeral.’ 

“So where does she live now?” 

“A few miles away, with a few men. She lives in Priapia. It’s an artist’s colony.” 

“And she’s not allowed to come back?” 

“No. No one said anything during the funeral because...well, everyone knows that she loved Moritz. And he loved her. She was always his...protector, I suppose.” 

Isaac sipped his tea, trying to process all this information. A teenage girl, banished from her home? That didn’t seem right. And yet, the people here were treating him and his brothers with the utmost kindness. They made sure they were comfortable, and always greeted them with smiles and lovely words. Maybe Ilse had done something wrong that Melchior wasn’t mentioning. 

“Melchior?” 

“Yes?” 

“How did Moritz die? I keep hearing about the funeral. I know it happened right before we got here.” 

Melchior took a deep breath. Isaac could tell it was still difficult for him to talk about. 

“He stole his father’s gun and killed himself in the woods.” 

“Oh, God.” 

“I...I should have known. I was his closest friend, I should have been able to stop him.” 

“Melchior, you can’t blame yourself for something like that.” 

“I do, though. I haven’t stopped since it happened. Since Ilse came running into the village, breathless. She...she found him out there. He was all alone. He must have been so scared.” 

Isaac allowed Melchior’s words to hang in the air for a few minutes before speaking again. 

“I’m so, so sorry. It’s never easy losing anyone.” 

“I miss him so much. I’m sorry...I’m sorry I shouldn’t be talking to you about this. I’m sorry to burden you with it.” There he was again, being overly polite.

“It’s okay! You don’t have an older brother to talk to. I get it. My younger brothers talk to me about hard stuff all the time. You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Boys?” Isaac and Melchior snapped their heads towards the door, where Frau Gabor was peeking in to check on them. 

“Yes, Mama?” 

“It’s time for bed, now. Isaac, are you alright? Do you need anything?” 

“N...no Frau Gabor, I’m fine thank you.” He grasped Melchior’s hand as he began to walk away. “Whenever you need to talk, okay? You know where to find me.”


	5. On Sale for the Price of your Soul

Melchior sat quietly in the third row of the classroom, next to the chair that used to be occupied by Moritz. Now, it was occupied by Taylor, one of the new additions to the small group of students that assembled at the schoolhouse every day. Herr Sonnestich droned on mindlessly at the front of the classroom, while Melchior snuck a look over to Wendla, who was in the front row on the girls’ side. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back, which was held straight in an effort to impress the teacher. He sighed, feeling slightly defeated, and looked over at Taylor, offering a half hearted smile. He liked the set of brothers who had taken up residence in the village well enough, but they were no replacement for his best friend. It seemed as though he missed Moritz more every day. He didn’t know how that was possible. 

Wendla raised her hand to answer a question, garnering a smile from Herr Sonnestich. Wendla and Anna always sat in the front row, the two smartest students in the class. Thea and Martha sat behind them, Thea being scolded more than anyone for her giggling, and Martha never daring to raise her hand to answer a question. On his side of the classroom, Melchior sat behind Georg and Otto in the first row, Hanschen and Ernst in the second, and now there was a fourth row...created specially for Zac. 

He had noticed Anna sneaking glances back at the brothers. They were living in her house for now, but he knew that Anna was shy and polite. She probably had never even spoken to them. She was the oldest of all the girls, and the most clever, but never put a toe out of line. He remembered clearly when they were all little and dared each other to go into the forest at sunset. Ilse had gone without hesitation, Melchior close behind. Thea followed suit, because she wanted to be included. The rest of the boys rushed through the branches, not wanting any girls to be braver than they were. Martha, Anna, and Wendla stayed behind; Wendla standing on her tiptoes and straining her neck to see how far everyone had gotten before they became too frightened. 

He scribbled a note to Taylor and passed it discreetly. 

“I know it’s boring. Just don’t fall asleep.” 

Taylor read the words and snickered, crumpling up the paper and putting it in his pocket. He was nothing like Moritz. He was confident and looked you straight in the eye, unlike Moritz’s nervous and wandering gaze. And yet there was something about him that was familiar. Melchior wished he could stop thinking about his friend, and finding Moritz in everyone he looked at. He was driving himself crazy with his own grief. 

“Melchior Gabor?” 

Melchior’s head shot up at the sound of his name. He turned around suddenly, towards the voice, and discovered it was Herr Knochenbruch, one of the town elders. 

“...Yes?” Melchior replied, nearly whispering. He didn’t like feeling scared or nervous. 

“Please come with me, young man.” 

“Right now?” 

“No, next Tuesday. Yes, right now.” 

Melchior hung his head sheepishly, suddenly feeling deeply for his best friend, who was often called away from class to discuss his failing grades. The town elders knew everything. There were no secrets in the village. Except that night with Wendla. In the hayloft…

Herr Knachenbruch marched Melchior to the church, where the elders were assembled. There were five of them, and they had been the authorities in the village as long as Melchior could remember. Frau Bergmann was one of them. Wendla looked so much like her mother. It made his stomach turn. 

“Have a seat, young man,” Herr Knachenbrach demanded, motioning towards the wooden chair directly in front of the long table the elders were seated at. 

“Why am I here?” Melchior asked, boldly. 

“SILENCE,” came a shout from Frau Bergmann’s throat. Did she know? She couldn’t know...there was no way that she knew…

“It would seem, young man, that all roads end in you. You do know what I mean?” 

“I’m afraid --” Melchior began, before he was abruptly interrupted. 

“As well one should be. Two days after his father learned of the young...um…” 

“Moritz Stiefel,” Fraulein Knuppeldich offered, sending Melchior into a rage that he could not express. It had been less than a week since Moritz died. There’s no way that anyone should be forgetting his name yet. 

“Moritz Stiefel’s death, he searched through the boy’s effects and uncovered a certain depraved and atheistic document which made terribly clear the utter moral corruption of the young man. A corruption which, no doubt, hastened the boys end.” 

“Without question,” came a voice from the other end of the long table. It was Frau Bergmann. There was a strange fire in her eyes. Melchior felt himself shudder slightly. 

“I am referring, as you may know, to a ten page essay, entitled, coyly enough ‘The Art of Sleeping With’...accompanied by, shall we say...life like illustrations.” 

Melchior didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or groan with annoyance. He remembered so clearly the day, a few weeks ago, that Moritz had come to him, shaking with nerves. When Melchior asked what was wrong, Moritz looked him in the eye and told him about “legs...in sky blue stockings...climbing over the lecture podium.” 

“Oh, _that_ sort of dream,” Melchior had said with a smirk. “So you had a dirty dream, Moritz, it’s fine. Everyone does.” 

“...You do?” 

“Of course. You’re...a boy. It’s not a revolutionary thing you’re experiencing here.” 

“I can’t focus Melchi.”

“You can never focus.” 

“I….” Moritz began, attempting to defend himself and then realizing it was fruitless, “know that. But it’s different. It’s all consuming.” 

“Listen...I’ll tell you everything. I got it out of books!” Melchior said with a smirk. It was true. His parents let him read whatever he wanted, which didn’t seem to be the norm in the village. 

“Write it down,” Moritz answered, sheepishly. “All of it. Conceal it in my satchel after gymnastics tomorrow.” He began to make his way towards his house after a quick hug. He turned around suddenly, a thought striking him mid-step. “If you like...you can add some illustrations in the margins.” 

“Top to bottom?” 

“Everything.” 

Melchior looked at the group of adults sitting in front of him, sure that he could argue his case if they would only let him speak. The essay had been completely innocent! He was just trying to help his friend…

“Herr Knochenbruch, if I could…” he began.

“Behave properly? Yes that would be another affair entirely,” the man said sternly, interrupting Melchior once again. “For our part, we have made a thorough examination of the handwriting of this obscene document and compared it with that of every single pupil.” 

“Sir, if you could show me one obscenity...” Melchior attempted, yet again.

“You must now answer only the precisely stated questions, with a swift and decisive ‘yes’ or ‘no’.” 

Melchior shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was no use lying. The elders saw everything. They watched constantly. He was lucky he hadn’t been banished along with Ilse the night they took her out into the woods. He had helped her, after all. 

“Melchior Gabor. Did you write this?” 

 

***

“A reformatory??” Fanny shrieked, causing Melchior to flinch at the sound of his mother in distress. He was in the next room with Isaac, after confessing to writing the essay and being marched home. 

“Yes, Frau Gabor. We believe that is what would be best for him,” Herr Knachenbruch said with a solemn tone, although Melchior could sense a hint of a smile beneath his concern. 

“How can you say that would be best for him? I know what you really mean, Friedrich. There is no reformatory. There is no place for him to go!!” 

“Fanny,” Herr Knachenbruch hissed angrily. Melchior wondered if he was supposed to be hearing this conversation. He looked at Isaac guiltily, who shrugged his shoulders. Both of their faces were etched with confusion. The man continued, in an angry whisper, “when we came here we all agreed on this system. The elders decide. You were happy to get rid of Ilse.” 

“She...she was different.” 

“She is no different than your son.” And with that, he walked out of the house. 

Melchior’s eyes widened and he watched Isaac follow after the elder. 

“Excuse me!” Isaac called after him. 

Herr Knachenbruch turned around reluctantly, clearly annoyed that this errand was taking so long. “Yes? May I help you?”

“So are you taking him to a reform school?” 

“My dear boy, isn’t that what I just said? Yes. We are taking him to a school away from the village.” 

“Why do I feel like you’re lying to me?” 

The elder sighed and walked up to Isaac, his eyes intense and irritated. “I would suggest that you do not question me further, young man. This is how things are done here. You listen to us. We know what is best for all of you. I know you are new here, but if you plan on staying here, you need to learn your place.” 

After the man was gone, Isaac turned back around the Melchior, who was standing in the doorway. 

“What are they going to do to you?”


	6. Huge and Dark, Oh our Hearts

Taylor was glad that, for the most part, he was able to keep himself busy during the day. There was school, of course, then there always seemed to be chores to do until dinner time. Anna had given him a few books to read to stave off boredom during the evenings. Yet he still felt restless. He chalked it up to the fact that there was so much he couldn’t remember. He still didn’t know where he and his brothers had gotten to the village. Why there were here. 

He wandered past the church aimlessly, opening the squeaky gate that led to the humble graveyard. He looked down at the freshest one. _Moritz Stiefel_. He had already heard quite a bit about this boy. Mostly from Melchior, who had seemed to take a shining to Taylor within the last few days. He knew that he had run into the woods with his father’s gun and shot himself in the head. He knew that the whole village was still in mourning. 

Taylor turned suddenly when he heard the gate squeak again, signalling another person coming into the graveyard. 

A girl with long brown hair that cascaded down her back in waves stepped into the confines of the fence, fresh wildflowers in her hand. She was wearing a flowing dress, which was falling off her shoulder carelessly. There were a few sprigs of the same flowers in her hair. 

“You’re the girl,” Taylor blurted out, before being able to stop himself. 

She chuckled quietly, a warm smile forming on her lips. Her eyes were green and luminescent. He felt like she already knew everything about him, just by looking at him. The intensity of her gaze was almost jarring. 

“I’m Ilse, if that’s what you mean…” 

It was the golden hour, right before the sun started dipping and making its descent into night. The yellow light splashed across the girl’s face. Taylor was overwhelmed by the vision. She looked...like a painting. Or an angel. Or both. 

“I remember you from the woods. Before...before we came here.” 

“You do?” 

“Yes. You were wearing a green dress.” 

Her smile widened. He couldn’t figure out how old she was. She looked youthful and bright but the way she spoke and carried herself seemed so much older. Wiser. Who was she? Was she some kind of fairy? Some otherworldly being? _That’s ridiculous, Taylor,_ he thought to himself. 

“I was.” She looked down at Moritz’s headstone and sadness flashed across her eyes. She laid the flowers down on the grass and took a seat next to Taylor, both of them facing the grave solemnly. Her arm brushed his and he felt a blush creep up to his cheeks. “How are you liking it here?” She asked, earnestly. 

“It’s fine, I guess. Everyone is really nice.” 

Ilse laughed slightly at that, before realizing that Taylor was not being sarcastic. She flashed him an apologetic glance and urged him to continue. 

“I wish...I wish I could remember where we were before this. Where we should go back to. Everything seems...off.” 

“That’s one way to put it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Everyone here has their secrets,” she responded, cryptically. She reached out a hand and gently brushed away some dirt from the headstone. 

“You miss him, don’t you?” 

Ilse sighed and turned to face Taylor. He was struck by how close they were sitting. 

“Of course I do. Moritz was one of my closest friends.” Taylor saw a few tears form in her green eyes, and wished he could make them disappear. He didn’t even know her, though. “I was the last person he spoke to.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. I was in the woods, coming back here to check on everyone. I do that from time to time. I saw him and I talked to him, but he wouldn’t come back to the village with me. I begged him to, but he wouldn’t do it.” 

“So he…” 

“Shot himself? Yes.” 

“I’m sorry, Ilse.” 

“Don’t be. I’m sure the elders were more than pleased to get three new boys for the price of one,” she said bitterly. Taylor opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t quite find the words. “You remind me of him, you know.” 

“Moritz?” 

“Yes. There’s something about you. I saw you sitting here and I nearly jumped out of my skin because I thought it was him for a moment. I know that’s impossible…” 

“Stranger things have happened.” 

“Melchior is taking it even harder than me. I loved Moritz but Melchi _loved_ him.” 

“I’ve spent some time with him.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me…”

“And he’s definitely taking it very hard.” 

“I’m sorry...I shouldn’t be talking to you about all of this. You didn’t even know Moritz, I don’t know why you would care about how we’re feeling.” 

“It’s okay,” Taylor responded, trying not to sound like he was pleading for her to stay. He didn’t want to stop talking to this... _being_ who was still bathed in golden sunlight. She smiled at him, and he faltered with his next words. “Um...where do you live?” 

“Priapia,” Ilse said, matter of factly. “It’s an artist...commune...of sorts.” 

“Why don’t you live here anymore?” 

“I was kicked out when I was thirteen.” 

“Why?” 

“I was on to them.” 

Taylor let the words hang in the air for a few moments. Ilse spoke again before he could. 

“It didn’t help that they found me kissing Moritz and...showing him things that they don’t think should be shared between boys and girls. I also ran away a lot. Basically they had a lot of reasons to get rid of me before the final straw.” 

“But they’re letting you come back now. Maybe soon you can come home for good.” 

“I don’t want to come home for good,” Ilse said with a laugh. “Besides, they’re only letting me come and put flowers on the grave because they know how much I miss him. They’re cruel but they’re not completely heartless.” 

“Did they send you to the reform school?” 

“What?” 

“Is that where they sent you when you were...banished?” 

“No they just...they took me out to the woods. What reform school? What are you talking about?” 

“They’re taking Melchior to a reform school.” 

“...What?!” 

“They found an essay he wrote in Moritz’s things...they...they said he’s the reason Moritz killed himself…” 

Rage shadowed Ilse’s face as she rose to her feet and started running towards the houses. Taylor followed her, running to catch up with her and maybe stop her from doing anything rash. But somehow he knew that was a fool’s mission. He barely knew this girl, but he had a feeling that she did what she wanted. 

“What day is it?” She called over her shoulder. 

“Um...Wednesday…”Taylor answered breathlessly, falling in step right behind her. 

“Good.” 

She changed direction suddenly and barged into the school house, where the elders were assembled. Taylor stayed outside, but could hear everything. 

“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” She shrieked. 

“Ilse…” 

“You’re going to take him out to the forest and leave him for dead. You’ll let the monsters feed on him. There is no reform school. I would have died too if I hadn’t been smart.” The words poured out of her mouth, white hot and angry. 

“Ilse, please remove yourself from this school house.” 

“NO. You tried to get rid of me but it’s not that easy. I’m not going to let you kill Melchior, too. Moritz died because of all of you. He died because of your cowardice.” 

The commotion had caused a few more spectators to gather in the school yard. Taylor watched as Herr Zirchnitz and Herr Lammemaier went inside the schoolhouse and dragged Ilse, kicking and screaming, from the building. She flailed wildly, her hair and limbs lashing out in every direction. 

“The sun is going down, Ilse,” Herr Knachenbrach said from the doorway, calmly. “You wouldn’t want to be in the woods when it gets dark, would you?” 

Ilse looked up at the group of elders now assembled on the porch of the schoolhouse. Taylor had never seen anything like the hatred that clouded her face. She wrenched her arms from the grasp of the two men who were restraining her, and walked to the treeline. 

She looked back at Taylor before she stepped into the forest. 

_Everyone here has their secrets._

He scanned the dispersing crowd and found his brothers. They all had fear in their eyes. _What was this place?_


	7. There's Something Missing

“Melchi?” 

Melchior’s head was swimming. He could barely feel anything except for the deep, sharp pain in his stomach. 

“Melchi?” 

He heard a voice calling his name. It sounded so far away. He couldn’t quite place it. He knew it was a woman, and that it was gentle. Comforting. But other than that he wasn’t sure…

“Melchi, please. I’ll help you up, come on. The sun is going down. We can’t be out here when it gets dark.” 

The voice started to shift into focus. She was young and worried. His face twitched when he felt a hand on his cheek, coaxing him out of the land of dreams. His right eye blinked open slowly. 

“Melchi! Good. Okay, you’re going to sit up now. I’ll help you.” 

It was Ilse. 

She continued to chatter as she helped him up to a seated position, the pain in his stomach and limbs deepening with every small movement. 

“I knew this was going to happen, and they knew I knew. They tried to take you somewhere I wouldn’t find you but I scoured the woods, Melchi. I knew you’d be here somewhere. It’s going to be a farther walk to the road, but we’ll manage.” 

Ilse draped Melchior’s arm around her shoulders and heaved his weight onto her side. She was wearing a long man’s shirt and trousers. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, her long dark curls out of her face for the task at hand. 

“Don’t worry, Melchi, I’m not losing you like I lost Moritz. There’s no way.” 

His head lolled onto her shoulder. He was so tired. He wanted to lay down on the forest floor and rest. 

“A reform school,” Ilse said with disdain. “I’m not an idiot. I knew there was no reform school. I wish...I wish I could tell them all.” 

“Why can’t you?” Melchior whispered, slowly finding his voice. 

“I don’t think they would believe me.” 

***

Melchior woke up in a bed, the evening sun streaming through a large window on the opposite wall. His whole body still ached, but his eyes were all the way open and his head wasn’t pounding quite as viciously. He laid there quietly while the sun set, and fell back asleep when the moon began its ascent. 

***

“How are you feeling?” 

Melchior opened his eyes and saw Ilse at the side of his bed, in a clean dress, her hair once again cascading down around her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright and hopeful, but he could detect a hint of worry behind them. 

“Better,” he croaked, his voice still scratchy from lack of use. “Wh...what happened to me?” 

He could remember the elders fetching him from his home early the previous morning, and walking out into the woods. There was still fog clinging to the ground, making the forest look dangerous. He remembered being led in the opposite direction from where Ilse always emerged from the woods. He remembered being hit in the stomach. He remembered a swing to his head. And then nothing. 

“They left you out there.” 

“I was supposed to go to a reform school.” 

“There was never a reform school, Melchi. They tried to kill you, just like they tried to kill me and just like they killed Moritz.” 

“Moritz killed himself.” 

“Right…” Ilse looked away. Melchior knew she was still hurting from Moritz's death. He knew she still thought she could have saved him. 

“Where am I?” 

“ _Priapia_ ,” Ilse said with a smirk. “It’s a hotel a few miles away from the village. This is my home now.” 

“I thought you lived in an artist’s colony…” 

“This is an artist’s colony, of sorts. John and Gus found me and took me in. They’re both painters. Their studio is downstairs. They rent these rooms to other artists and musicians and...any traveler who comes along. They call the hotel _Priapia_ ,” 

Melchior took a look around the room. Everything looked...different. Wrong.

“Ilse.” 

“I know this is overwhelming. It was for me too. There is quite a bit about the village that I need to tell you. And a lot about the outside world as well.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The village isn’t what you think it is.” 

***

Ilse spent the better part of the day explaining how the outside world was unlike anything Melchior had ever seen. She knew that most of it would have to be seen to be believed, so she walked over to the wall and flipped on the light switch, flooding the room with a golden glow. It had taken her months to get used to everything, and she was sure that Melchior would have a similar experience. 

“What year do you think it is?” she asked, unsure of where on the calendar the village was at this point. She had left three years ago, and tried to block every lie out. 

“1891,” he replied, causing Ilse to wince. 

“It’s 2000.” 

Melchior’s face crinkled in confusion. He shook his head. “That’s impossible, Ilse.” 

“It’s not. You’ve never been outside the village.” 

“But how do you know all of this?” 

“Because I live out here now. I’m telling you Melchi. They’ve lied to us our entire lives.” 

“...What about the monsters?” 

Ilse’s face blanched. “The...the monsters are real.” 

She would never forget the night that one of the monsters had attacked her, coming back from the village, where she had left a message for Melchior wedged between two fence posts. She remembered all too well the fear that pounded against her ribs, the panic that coursed through her body as its claws ripped the skin on her legs. 

“So what now?” Melchi asked, his voice quivering. 

Ilse heaved a resolute sigh. “You’ll stay here. With us. There’s plenty of room, and John and Gus already know that you’re my best friend. I’m not letting you go back there.” 

“You go back all the time.” 

“Yes, but I’m careful.”

“I would be careful, Ilse.” 

“Melchi, I don’t have a family. Now that you’re here, I have nothing back there I care about. Besides, they think you’re dead. It would be dangerous for you go to back and you know it.” 

“I just…” he faltered with his words, emotions welling up inside of him, “I don’t understand why they would want to kill me.” 

“We know too much now, you and I. Moritz was beginning to. They know exactly what they’re doing. They have three new boys there that aren’t questioning anything. They figured they could bear to lose two of their own.” 

Melchior grimaced. “So....those boys are from out here?” He asked, referencing the village’s newest inhabitants, the three brothers who had come from seemingly nowhere.

Ilse nodded in response. 

“We have to get them out.”


	8. All That's Real

Anna crept quietly up the stairs, trying her best not to make any of the floorboards creak under her feet. She had, once again, stayed up too late reading. She was glad that her mother never chastised her for it, because she knew that not all the girls in the village were given that freedom. Often she would read in the meadow or by the church and Thea would interrupt her rudely, asking her what in the world could be so interesting on the pages that Anna kept so close to her nose. 

But Anna loved the books. She devoured them. She had read every single book that her parents kept in the house, most of them more than once. She had read the Bible so many times that she had many verses memorized, and loved to impress her teachers by reciting Psalms by heart at the drop of a hat. She asked everyone in the village for books to read, some that she might not have read before. In the books she could leave the village, if only for a little while. She could be anyone she wanted to be. Well, she could be anyone who existed in the approved stories that she had at her disposal. 

She held the candle she was carrying aloft so she could make her way to her small bedroom at the end of the hall. She figured it was well past midnight, and she knew that she would regret staying up this late when the morning came and she had to wake up and get started on her chores before meeting Thea on the porch to head to school. 

As she was passing the spare room, the door flung open and a body flew out, knocking her candle to the ground and extinguishing the flame. 

“OH. God, I’m sorry. Sorry.” Zac scrambled to retrieve the candle, the hallway now plunged into complete darkness. 

“It’s...it’s alright,” Anna responded, whispering so as not to wake up her parents who were sleeping at the other end of the hallway. 

He found her hand in the dark, and she shuddered away. She was glad he couldn’t see her face because she was sure it was bright red. She had never met this boy before they came to the village, and even though he and his brother had been staying at her house, she never spoke to him. 

The other boys in the village were different. She had known them since she was a baby; had shared the small classroom with them since before she could remember, sat behind and in front of them in church, celebrated the summer’s arrival by their side. Georg gave her books with a huge smile after school before he went to his piano lessons. Otto made her laugh harder than anyone else. Moritz, who she looked after from afar.

_Moritz…_

“What are you doing up?” Zac asked quietly, shaking Anna from her thoughts. 

“Oh, um...nothing. I was reading. Sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” 

“I don’t know. Do you need something?” 

“No, I just couldn’t sleep. And I feel like all my tossing and turning is going to wake Taylor up.” 

Anna looked towards her bedroom door, wondering if this was even allowed. “You can come to my room for a bit.” Again, she felt her face flare up, and hoped it would cool down before she lit the candle again. 

“Why does your family have an extra room?” Zac asked once they were in her room and they didn’t have to whisper. Anna was shocked by his boldness. 

“My brothers died when I was very small,” she answered, surprised that she was offering the information so readily. 

“Brothers? More than one?” 

“They were twins. They got sick, both of them. Too sick...the doctor couldn’t help them. He tried but…” she trailed off, looking at the candle she had relit. The flame danced around wildly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She shrugged. He had taken a seat on her bed, as though this was a room he always sat and talked in. With nowhere else to sit, she placed herself by the headboard, trying to create as much distance between the two of them as possible. 

“It’s okay, I don’t even really remember them. I was pretty little.” 

“Still...that’s awful.” 

“I suppose.” 

“Can I ask you another question?” 

“Alright,” Anna responded, eyeing him carefully. He hadn’t said more than “hello” to her before this night. Maybe he was having bad dreams. Maybe he was just lonely. 

“Why do you never leave the village?” 

“We….can’t,” Anna answered plainly. 

“But why not?” 

“The monsters.” 

Zac’s eyes narrowed as disbelief cast a shadow on his face. Anna had answered the question as though he had asked what color the sky was or what season comes after fall. 

“What?” 

“There are monsters in the woods, Zac. They’ve killed. If we go into the forest after dark...that’s...that’s when they hunt.” 

“Have you seen them?” 

She nodded, refusing to meet his gaze. 

Zac heaved a heavy sigh. She could tell he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care. She knew the truth. She had seen their claws, she had heard their gnashing teeth, feasting on their prey. She knew. They all knew. 

“So...that’s why you don’t leave.” 

“We….we can’t,” she repeated, trying to drive home the point. “You’re lucky Ilse found you that night in the woods. The night you came to us. If you had been out there any longer you...you probably would have been killed. By _them_.” 

Zac leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Finally he spoke again. 

“How old are you?” 

“Sixteen. I’m the oldest girl in the village,” she said proudly, as though it mattered. 

“I’m fifteen, you’re older than me.” 

“It doesn’t really matter here, anyway. We’re all in the same class,” she said with a smirk. She and Melchior always joked that they should start an advanced grade, since they were the smartest ones among them. Her face fell at the thought of her friend, now probably ripped to shreds and strewn over the branches. Prey, and nothing more. 

“What’s the matter?” Zac asked, having observed her face change. 

“We lost Moritz and then we lost Melchior. It isn’t fair.”

“No,” Zac said, placing his hand on hers and squeezing it gently. “It isn’t fair at all.”


End file.
